


Pretty Little Animals on Parade

by fencer_x



Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[sequel of sorts to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/240226">All the Pretty Little Animals</a>] Shion drags Nezumi home to meet the In-Laws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Little Animals on Parade

Nezumi shifted in place, sneakers crunching against the gravel beneath his feet as he waited impatiently for the clicking and clanging of iron wheels against rail to die away, the incessant rattling slowly fading as the commuter train zoomed past the little crossing separating he and Shion and a dozen other residents of the little offshoot town they'd found themselves in from the cozy neighborhood tucked away behind the station.

Shion's profession that his mother lived in 'Chiba' had been decidedly generous. Sure, they were in Chiba--but they were so far off the main line that Shion had shaken his head and pointed to an old paper ticket machine at the last changeover, confessing with an embarrassed flush that, "They haven't installed Suica readers yet…" Nezumi couldn't recall the last time he'd traveled so far off the beaten path that you actually had to purchase physical stubs, but he said nothing untoward, just eyed Shion carefully and purchased the appropriate fare, heart feeling a little lighter and less like an iron weight in his stomach when Shion had brightened as he pointed out the sign noting when their next train would be by to take them the final leg of their journey and grabbed Nezumi's hand in his own to jerk him forward.

Which left them here, in the middle of Bumfuck-chou, Chiba-ken, Japan. 

A five-minute walk, Shion assured him excitedly (and nervously, if Nezumi wasn't wrong), from his mother's shop. Shion's mother--" _Karan_. You can't go around calling her 'Shion's Mama' at dinner, honestly."--apparently ran a small bakery out of her little maisonette, refurbishing the downstairs as her shopfront and keeping the upstairs for living space. It sounded rather quaint and cozy and perfect for wherever the hell they were, which only served to discomfit Nezumi even further.

Shion, for all it was worth, seemed to be walking about with his head in the clouds. It had taken weeks of planning and organizing to manage to find time where they could both be free--free enough to make the nearly two-hour one-way trip--to have dinner with Shion's mother--with _Karan_ \--but now that he was here, plodding along a pot-hole-riddled back road, Nezumi found himself less than enthusiastic about the whole endeavor.

He wasn't really…the parent-meeting type. He wasn't the _steady relationship_ type, either. Hell, he wasn't the _relationship_ type at all, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, but somehow he'd wound up doing a decent imitation of dating his air-headed friend for the past few months now, and he'd put off meeting the Missus for as long as possible. Despite his every effort, though, he'd reluctantly been drawn into this not-entirely-uncomfortable rut of _domesticity_ with Shion, sharing conbini bentou dinners in his dressing room between acts and quick breakfasts of toast and juice and blow jobs when time permitted, soaking up every solitary moment the could manage before work called one or the other away.

And then he'd stopped taking clients, and the jolt to his wallet was less of a blow than that to his psyche when he finally manned up and admitted to himself _why_ he felt the move necessary: not out of any sense of obligation or shame, not because Shion had asked him--Shion had never needed to, had never _thought_ to beg him not to saunter onto stage _en deshabille_ \--but because…something just seemed _off_ now.

Why would he want to spend fifteen, twenty minutes with a total stranger drunkenly rutting against him when he could listen to Shion's lilting babble as he excitedly chattered about a new computer program his division was trying that would cut processing time in half (a prospect no doubt tantalizing to office drones) which meant fewer days putting in overtime and maybe that meant he could take up some after-work hobby like ikebana or aikido? What was a bonus of ten thousand a client serviced compared with the sick thought that, if Shion kissed him later that evening, he might have to taste the nasty, tarred mix of cigarettes and absinthe.

What was the point in fucking anyone else, for any reason, when the pleasures of Shion's eager, uneducated fumblings far outstripped the rewards he might earn on his back at The Zoo?

Shion never asked if they were dating, and Nezumi never insinuated as such. He didn't think of themselves as 'boyfriends'--that all sounded so… _grade-school_ , pedestrian even. But didn't it mean _something_ when you slept with someone on a fairly regular basis, put thoughts of them before your own when you'd never known yourself to have a selfless bone in your body--when you _met their mother_?

If one of them had been a chick, this surely would've been a hell of a lot less complicated, but as it was, Shion was Shion and Nezumi was a glorified prostitute, really (former prostitute? Could he call himself that? Was he supposed to put it on his resume now? "Career-related skills: Can fellate to orgasm in 90 seconds"), and so they were left in this awkward limbo that didn't seem all that awkward for Shion but for Nezumi felt like being stuck perpetually at the apex of an arc, his heart in his throat and his stomach simultaneously weightless and heavy as iron, leaving him a little nauseated and a lot confused and worried, clinging to the faint hope that eventually he'd float back to earth, little worse for wear, and everything would make sense again.

But tonight--tonight was dinner with Karan, and Nezumi was shuffling along in street clothes he now worried were far too casual for meeting the woman who'd made Shion the entrancing idiot he was, fingers clenched white-knuckled around the base of a handsome bouquet of purple orchids.

"My mother hates flowers, you know."

Nezumi froze in place, shooting Shion a panicked look as horror flashed across his features and sapped the color, until Shion knocked their shoulders together with a stifled snort, tugging him forward with a hand at his elbow. Swiftly recovering, Nezumi used his free hand to slap the back of his head, ignoring the offended _Oww…_ that followed.

"Asshole. All women like flowers."

"Safu doesn't."

Nezumi snickered. "She would if you brought them, I'll bet," and the bump he received this time was not nearly as good-natured as previously, but Nezumi ignored it, instead holding up the bouquet and surveying it with a frown. "Lady at the store told me they mean 'beautiful woman' in flower language. Whatever the hell that means."

The smile that had been perched on Shion's lips since he'd shown up at Nezumi's door that morning grew, curling at the corners. "They're really beautiful. I'm sure she'll like them."

Nezumi shrugged. "I tried to find ones that meant, 'Sorry I'm defiling your only son,' but they were out."

Shion leaned over and sniffed deeply, humming his satisfaction, and suggested idly, "Should've gone with asters."

"Huh?" Nezumi was on alert--it didn't have that playful note Shion had injected into his earlier teasing, sounding almost serious. "But--why?"

His fears were dispelled when Shion laughed, a loud bark, and leaned affectionately into Nezumi, nearly sending him toppling into a pile of garbage someone had set up outside an apartment complex. " _Because_ , duh."

Nezumi made a face and rolled his eyes, focusing on ensuring his orchids weren't crushed; on further consideration, going with asters would've been more than a bit ham-handed; only Shion would find something like that amusing. Presenting himself as a bumbling suitor intent on worming his way into Karan's good graces would hardly make a good impression (even if that was exactly what he was trying to do; the point was to avoid being _obvious_ about it).

Something poked him in his side, and he threw Shion a sharp glance. "What?"

"You're nervous."

"Yeah, and?"

Brows quirking up, Shion's smile grew fond. "You can quote _Julius Caesar_ in lace stockings to a crowd of men too drunk to remember their own names, but my mother intimidates you?"

Nezumi snorted inelegantly at the image and waved Shion off using the bouquet. "It's different. I'm not worried about impressing _them_." He paused in consideration, and allowed himself to admit, "…I doubt I'm exactly the type of person she wants her baby boy fraternizing with."

Shion stopped in his tracks, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he drew up short. "…Huh? Why would she think that?"

Nezumi turned around, drawing to a stop as well. "You're telling me she's _fine_ with you…you know, associating with someone like me?" 'Associating' was a safe word; it wasn't as crass as 'fucking' and it wasn't as implication-laden as 'dating'.

Shion immediately glanced away, lips twitching into a nervous grin, and he laughed weakly. "Oh--well, I haven't really told her much. About you, at least."

"… _What_?"

"I did mention your name!"

Nezumi threw his hands up and spin on his heel, marching forward again. "Oh, _well then_ , that takes a lot of pressure off of--"

"Well--she never asked, is all." Shion jogged to catch up, slowing again when he drew up alongside Nezumi and leaning forward to peer into his face worriedly. "Have you told _your_ parents about us?"

Something spasmed in Nezumi's chest--dark and familiar, he recognized the panic that gripped him when someone danced too close to him. Desperate to keep the less pleasant thoughts at bay just for this evening, he quickly changed the subject. "Now I've not only brought her the wrong flowers, I'm going to have to find some way to paint the fact that I'm a cross-dressing stripper in a pleasant light." Nezumi grumbled bringing a hand to his head in defeat.

Shion didn't seem fazed, simply pointing ahead to an unobtrusive little brick storefront with a sandwich board sign out front announcing the day's specials. "Just be your usual charming self and I'm sure you'll win her over."

"And if I don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Win her over." He waved the orchids as evidence. "What if she makes a _scene_? I can't deal with women who make _scenes_ , Shion."

"Kind of like the one you're making here?"

"Hold your tongue."

They drew up to the stoop, and Shion pressed the buzzer, leaning forward to try and peer through the thick curtains on the other side of the glass. A sign on the window showed the store hours--it'd passed closing time nearly an hour ago. While they waited to be admitted inside, Nezumi listening intently for the sounds of movement, Shion looped an arm through his and tugged him close, leaning in and dropping his voice with, "Just charm her like you did me."

Which was, suffice to say, about the worst advice ever, and Nezumi huffed his annoyance as he shrugged off Shion's attentions. "You needed no charming. You practically threw yourself at me."

"I did _not_."

"Gagging for me from the moment you saw me--"

"Not true! You were absolutely horrible that first--"

"Then why'd you come back?"

Shion shrank back, flushing and arranging his bag over his shoulder, suddenly bashful. "That's--like I said. You were charming."

Nezumi decided then that maybe it wasn't worth arguing about if Shion wanted to insist he was just _that_ good at seduction.

* * *

The inside of Karan's shop was as modest as the outside, reflecting in the cozy but dust-free nooks and crannies the same wending roads that Shion and Nezumi had traveled to arrive there.

Karan herself was…much like her son, as obvious as the observation may have seemed. Similar coloring, same rounded face and warm expression reflecting an open, accepting personality. She bustled about them as she welcomed them into the store, rushing forward to hug Shion and lay a chaste kiss to his cheek as soon as he was over the threshold, leaving Nezumi shifting nervously two paces behind as he waited for family matters to be settled.

"And this…" Shion at least had the good graces not to try and hold Nezumi's hand, as he very likely would have had it torn off, and Shion was quite good with his hands--so this would've been a tragic loss. "…is Nezumi."

"…Nezumi?" Her voice rose at the end, his name a very obvious question, and Nezumi recalled with no small bit of amusement the first time Shion had fumbled over his name, as confused then as he was now with Nezumi's reluctance to expound on his past, his name, and all associated with it.

Shion nodded primly, pasting on a smile as if to reassure her that it was quite all right, people went about with names akin to street vermin all the time--it was just one of those crazy quirks Tokyoites dabbled in. "Nezumi," he repeated, and Nezumi felt a hand at his lower back coaxing him forward.

Here, he finally recalled the orchids wilting in his grasp and shoved them forward, a botanical barrier between himself and Shion's mother. She gave a startled little squeak, staring down at the flowers in confusion, before hesitantly prising them from Nezumi's death grip with a gentle smile. "How lovely!" She gave them a polite sniff, and Nezumi swallowed, waiting for the other shoe to drop as Shion drew up close and settled a hand lightly at the small of his back. "'Beautiful woman,' isn't it? You're quite the flatterer, Nezumi-san."

"I lied; she loves flowers," Shion confessed in an aside, and Nezumi threw him a furious glare, its impact lessened when Karan wrapped an arm around him, taking him by the shoulders to guide him towards the stairs, beyond which lay the apartment's living space.

"It's not much," she preemptively apologized as they scaled the flight up into what appeared to be the den, a small couch and low table situated at the far side of the room, with a little dining table and two chairs nearer to the kitchen area, itself only a single-basin sink and two-burner stove. She crossed her hands before her as she allowed Nezumi to make his assessments, adding, "I suppose that's why Shion moved into the city…"

"That's _not_ it, and you know it," Shion complained, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow at her. "You know I only did it to be closer to work; it took us forever to get out here. Can you imagine my trying to commute during rush hour every day?"

Her nervous smile softened into one of appreciation, and she quickly changed topics to avoid any awkwardness. "Oh--speaking of work, what is it you do, Nezumi-san?"

Nezumi froze, hand hovering over the bowl of fruit he'd been about to take an apple from, and his throat worked as he struggled to organize his thoughts into some semblance of small talk that didn't involve explaining to Shion's mother that he wore dresses--and then took them off--for a living.

Shion swooped in to his rescue, sidling up close and clinging to one arm for show. "He's an _actor_!" he crowed, seemingly prouder of Nezumi in this accomplishment than Nezumi himself. "I've seen him perform some, even--he's _amazing_!"

"Oh my," Karan gasped, bringing one hand to her mouth. "Have I seen any of your work?" Her fingers moved to her cheek worriedly. "I don't mean to offend, of course; I don't have much time for anything more than late-night infomercials, you see. Is it--television dramas, that sort of thing?"

Nezumi opened his mouth to respond, having cooked up a rather decent stretching of the truth in the space Shion had bought him, but Shion's babbling continued on. "Oh--no, stage mostly. And older stuff, I think?" He cast a glance to Nezumi, one brow raised as if to say _Well? Back me up here!_ before adding, "I think he's done some poetry readings as well."

If Karan was at all suspicious of her son's speaking for Nezumi, delivering a detailed and largely non-factual description of his illustrious career, she didn't show it, simply nodding politely and breathily professing that, "You must let me know when your next performance is. I'd love to attend!" before slipping around to the little kitchen area to check the progress of a large stewpot, nodding in satisfaction with whatever she saw.

"Yeah…sure…" Nezumi allowed hesitantly, casting a glance over to Shion who was currently inspecting the fruit bowl himself. He wondered in the back of his mind if Shion had leapt to his rescue out of courtesy…or embarrassment--and decided he didn't really want to know just now.

They settled in for dinner a short while later after Karan directed them to set the table, reminding Shion to fetch a stool from downstairs to accommodate their guest at the otherwise two-person table. The simmering pot turned out to be a thick beef stew, seasoning exceeding Nezumi's expectations. When Shion caught his reaction at first taste, he snickered and reminded, "Mom sells food for a living; she wouldn't be very successful if she couldn't cook!" And granted baking was hardly the same as preparing savory dishes, Nezumi had to agree that Karan had the skills to back up her business.

Shion and Karan made small talk for a few moments, letting Nezumi settle into his meal, before Karan broached the sensitive topic of, "So how did you and Shion meet, Nezumi-san?"

He froze, spoon in mid-air, and quickly sent his gaze flicking in Shion's general direction--but of course _now_ the guy was busy using his spoon to dice a chunk of beef into more manageable bites and couldn't be bothered to swoop in again like before. Nezumi pursed his lips in irritation and cleared his throat, gears turning in his head at full tilt.

"Shion's--work associates. A few months back, they dropped into a cafe where I was doing a reading one evening--after work, I suppose--and we happened to strike up a conversation." There, innocent enough. "We've kept in touch ever since." _In more ways than one,_ he added silently, and Shion took a sip of his tea, smiling knowingly into the mug as if he'd heard every unspoken word.

Karan nodded, understanding. "Still, I must confess--I'm thrilled of course that you seem to be getting along so well, but you're the first friend Shion's ever invited ho--"

" _Mom_ ," Shion cut in with a sharp groan, "Don't say stuff like that! It's embarrassing." He shoveled a spoonful of rice and roux into his mouth, keeping busy before she harassed him further.

"Come now, Shion--it's nothing to be bashful about." She rested a hand on his shoulder and turned an apologetic smile to Nezumi. "He's only ever been this close with one of our neighbors, Safu--"

Nezumi's brows rose with Shion's voice as he nearly coughed his rice back up onto his plate, choking out frantically, "That's not--we don't need to talk about _Safu_ \--"

Karan simply giggled, covering her mouth and seeming to take some dark joy in her son's suffering. Nezumi found himself feeling almost fond of the way she clearly knew how to play Shion like a fiddle and settled in to watch their exchange. "She always asks about you when she comes home to see her grandmother, you know." She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward, cocking her head. "Do you not see her much anymore? You do still work in the same office, don't you?"

Shion moved the remains of his dinner about his plate with his spoon, slumping back in his chair petulantly. "We're in different divisions. I mean, sometimes we have lunch and all--but we've got our own lives so…" He trailed off with a shrug, and that seemed to be all he was content to discuss.

Nezumi watched his reactions with interest; Safu had been a subject of curiosity with Nezumi when they'd first met--and if he'd known to look for it, he might have recognized that initial 'curiosity' as the first kindlings of jealousy--but their time together and the fact that any mention of Safu was generally brought up by Nezumi himself in teasing prodding had convinced him that the poor girl's very obvious crush was lost on Shion, his obliviousness the final nail in the coffin of what would have likely been some sickeningly sweet fairy-tale courtship. Nezumi kept meaning to drum up some sympathy for her, but he just had never gotten around to it. Pity.

Karan, though, he couldn't quite get a read on--was her teasing innocent, a simple manifestation of her maternal affections, or did she genuinely hold out some hope that Shion might bring Safu home one of these days, arm in arm with something more appropriate than ratty orchids in hand?

Karan caught his eye with a smile, sighing to herself before turning to Shion and pointedly clearing her throat. "Shion, dear, would you run downstairs and fetch the powdered sugar for me? I forgot to bring it up for the cherry cake." Shion pushed his stool out without protest. "It should be in the cupboard beneath the burners."

He nodded sharply and quirked his brows at Nezumi in a mental _be right back_ , as if Nezumi needed reassurance, before darting downstairs while Karan busied herself slicing their dessert.

Nezumi waited quietly, twiddling this thumbs and acutely aware of the fact that he was alone with Karan now, and settled on focusing his thoughts, keeping his breathing calm and even. This was ridiculous; he could strut down a catwalk in material which left nothing to the imagination to the jeers and catcalls of a drunken, rowdy audience, but a middle-aged single mother who clearly thought him underfed had him stricken on the spot.

"So how long have you and Shion been seeing one another?"

It was fortunate Nezumi had finished his meal, for he likely would have choked on whatever he'd just put in his mouth otherwise. Was he imagining things, or had there been a _tone_ she'd taken with 'seeing one another'? Maybe that was just the local dialect coming out; maybe that was how they spoke here in Bumfuck-chou.

He reminded himself to breathe and pretended to be very interested in his tea, regretting having finished it off earlier, leaving him with no way of wetting his very dry palate now. "I…well, I mentioned earlier, I think? I ran into him at a cafe a few months back--" He cut himself off when she tittered in genuine amusement, rinsing her hands off in the sink before mopping them dry with a towel and sidling back over to the table, where she slipped onto the stool Shion had recently vacated.

"Surely you were a gentleman, though, and didn't, ah, _woo_ him right away?"

Nezumi opted to choke on his tongue, voice going high. "I-- _excuse me_?"

She settled her chin into the palm of one hand. "He's not very subtle--Shion." An understatement if Nezumi had ever heard one, and his brows knit in confusion as to just how he was supposed to respond to that very astute observation. "He can't come home too often, so he phones at least twice a week." When Nezumi didn't react to this, she continued with, "He speaks about you an awful lot for a casual friend he met in a cafe."

He didn't quite know what to say. "I don't…quite know what to say…"

Her smile was unmoved, perpetually amused at his discomfort, and Nezumi had the sudden insight as to just how Shion had felt earlier. "I think it's adorable: how he thinks he's keeping it a secret." Nezumi had other words to describe Shion's mental state much of the time, but he held his tongue. When the silence grew nigh awkward, she pressed, concern coloring her voice, "Did you think I wouldn't approve?"

Realizing that to continue to play dumb now would chance being disrespectful, he allowed after a dry cough, "…Well, I'm sure you can imagine that…most people probably wouldn't be thrilled to find out their only son's dating another guy." And _another guy_ was being generous; if Karan caught whiff of Nezumi's tawdry past--tawdry _present_ \--he'd probably never have to worry about trekking out here to the middle of nowhere again. That at least was a silver lining. He added, to bolster his case for keeping mum about their relationship, "Plus most old ladies I know are baby-crazy--" And Karan's brows leapt into her hairline, setting Nezumi to frantically correcting himself with, "I mean--n-not that you're _old_ or anything, just mothers in general--and I'm sorry, that was a really shitty thing to say-- _fuck_ , a crappy thing to say-- _FUCK_ \--I mean, god _dammit_ \--" He slapped a hand to his mouth before any other curse words could worm their way into the awkward stillness between them, but let his fingers fall away when he noticed Karan's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

She dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron, huffing in satisfaction. "I do hope I get to hear the whole story some day."

"What story?" Shion topped the landing, lifting a paper bag in one hand. "It wasn't where you said it was at all; I found it in the pantry, behind the brown sugar."

"Oh, didn't I say to look there?" Her feigned innocence was lost on Shion, it seemed, who only shook his head affectionately and passed her the parcel, taking his seat back when she rose to slice their dessert.

He leaned forward, arms crossed over the table, and offered a hesitant smile. "…So?"

Nezumi flicked his gaze over to the kitchen, where Karan was humming softly to herself and slicing handsome portions of pastry. "So, what?"

Shion at least had the good sense to keep his voice low. "Do you like her? Did you at least enjoy the meal?"

Nezumi gave him a funny look, not entirely sure what he was getting at. "I--of course. Did you think I might not?"

He shrugged, obviously not thrilled with the response. "It's…important to me. That you like her."

"I'd think it would be more important that _she_ like _me_ ," he muttered, and before Shion could prod him to repeat himself, Karan had returned, expertly balancing three plates between two arms. Setting the chipped plate down for herself, she left Shion and Nezumi to divvy up the remaining two pieces while she fetched fresh silverware.

Nezumi indulged in the sweet tartness of the pastry while Shion and his mother conversed, letting the pleasant drone of their chatter flit in one ear and out the other. He'd had meals with Shion a dozen times before--they made an honest effort to actually _sit down_ in some place that was not a bar and actually try to be something resembling a couple, even though they neither one of them had ever broached that topic, leaving it an unspoken understanding between them because, well, Nezumi liked to think he preferred it that way.

But…this was different. This wasn't just _Shion_ , this was someone Shion cared for, trusted, likely far more than Nezumi himself, and Karan seemed nice enough, but _Did you think I wouldn't approve?_ was far from resounding, enthusiastic well-wishing, and the fact remained that she still didn't know Nezumi from Adam so why _should_ she approve of their seeing each other?

"Nezumi?" Shion's voice cut through his thoughts, and he blinked in rapid succession as he came back to the present. "Are you going to finish your--?"

Without further prompting, Nezumi shoveled what was left of his portion into his mouth, swallowing with some difficulty and offering Karan a nervous smile. "De--delicious," he offered by way of explanation, and bit his tongue in disappointment when the smile she returned carried much the same emotion.

* * *

Somehow or another it had been decided that Nezumi and Shion would spend the night, bunking in Shion's old room after Karan rooted around in a closet and pulled out a dusty old futon. She flushed in embarrassment at not being better prepared and hurried outside to hang it up where it might catch the fading rays of sunlight and lose its musty scent in the evening breeze whipping up. Nezumi tried to stop her, protesting that she really didn't need to go through the trouble, but she simply tossed back in a teasing tone, "But then where would you sleep? In Shion's bed?"

It was getting difficult to ferret out whether she was being serious or not, and Nezumi wisely backed down and let her continue to fuss over sleeping arrangements.

While she busied herself outside, Shion took him by the hand and marched upstairs, Nezumi in tow, silent and smiling nervously as he led Nezumi into his room. From what he'd heard, it had been nearly six months now since Shion had moved out, but his room was still immaculate, the wooden surfaces freshly dusted and an open window sending fresh air and dying sunlight spilling over everything; having seen Shion's own apartment in Tokyo on several occasions, he was confident the state was mostly thanks to Karan's likely tireless upkeep.

The window overlooked a small backyard where Karan had started a little kitchen garden, bright green shoots strutting up tall and proud against a brown backdrop. "Surprised she doesn't have any flowers…" Nezumi commented idly, turning at the sound of creaking springs as Shion slumped to his bed.

"It's enough work keeping up the garden as-is; I think I'll help her till a new bed next Spring, though. She deserves some color around here."

Nezumi _hmm_ ed softly and sidled over, pausing to stand in front of Shion as he took in the room before being unceremoniously tugged down to sit beside him on the bed, nearly flopping into his lap. "Watch it," he groused, then frowned when he remembered where they were. "…You're sure it's okay? Staying here tonight."

"Hmm? Why wouldn't it be?"

"We've both got work in the morning…"

Shion shrugged. "I'll get an early start; it won't be too much trouble to head back to my place to shower and change before I head in to the office. And you don't have to be in til the afternoon, right? So you can take your time, maybe have breakfast with my mom and--"

"Wait-- _what_? You're leaving me here-- _alone_ \--with her?!" When Shion raised a brow at this in clear concern, Nezumi colored, covering his mouth. "I--that's not it, I mean…"

Shion brought his hands to his lap, teasing the fingers of one hand with the other, and his words came slowly and carefully, warily even. "You…don't like her?"

"Eh?"

"My mom," he clarified, voice trailing off into a mumble with the dip in his mood. "I thought everything was going well, so what--"

"I _said_ ," Nezumi huffed, wiping a hand over his face, "That's not it. I didn't mean…whatever it sounded like."

"Then _what_?" And Nezumi _hated_ that tone; he'd didn't field desperation well in general, and coming from Shion's mouth, it made him feel all the less worthy of responding, like nothing he might be able to muster up could possibly excuse whatever he'd just said or done. He felt a tug on his shirt sleeve as Shion pressed, "Well?"

"Just…it's really not a--"

" _Nezumi_."

Patronizing, now--that was something he knew how to handle, and Nezumi brushed off Shion's grip, pushing himself back up as he paced the room. "I'm not going to just--lay all my shitty self-confidence and trust issues at your feet, Your Highness. Sorry."

After a beat of silence, Shion countered as if he'd been waiting for that response: "…Do we really have to dance the 'wait until tomorrow or fuck me and I'll tell you tonight' dance again?" Nezumi's arms fell limp at his sides, his jaw hanging open as he realized the corner he'd just been backed into--corners fucking _sucked_.

"…That's _not_ what I meant."

Shion's brows quirked in amusement, his mood lifting at having successfully turned the tables. "You keep saying that. Not that I'd ever object to, you know, _that_ \--"

"Such a way with words, this guy."

"--but it'd be nice now and then to be able to get a straight answer out of you without having to shuck my pants."

Nezumi slipped into the chair at the small desk on the far side of the room. He tugged idly on the chain dangling from a lamp that overlooked the desk, turning it on and off a few times before he was satisfied. "…It's not that I don't like your mom. I just don't think _she_ likes _me_."

He could hear the frown in Shion's voice. "You mentioned that earlier, too. Why would you think that?" A pause. "… _I_ like you, after all."

Nezumi snorted, flicking the little ball that hung from the lamp's chain. "You're sleeping with me."

"That's _not_ why I like you--" And at Nezumi's pointed glance, he amended, "…Okay, that's only _part_ of why I like you." He sighed, defeated. "You seemed to be getting on so well…"

Finally caving, Nezumi allowed, "Well--maybe it's just my imagination?"

"Maybe…" Shion picked at a thread coming loose from his pillow. "What if we--"

A knock at the door cut him off, and Karan stuck her head inside, her hair now tucked away under a handkerchief tied around her head. "The bathroom's free, and I've checked to make sure the water heater's on--if you'd like to get your baths tonight?"

"Oh--right." Shion glanced over to Nezumi. "I'll take first shower then, I guess?" Nezumi shrugged ambivalently, and Shion busied himself rifling through a chest of drawers for the bits of clothing that didn't make it to Tokyo. 

Nezumi leaned over the back of the chair, resting his chin on his crossed arms. "...You sure we can't go back tonight?"

Shion favored him with an affectionate but long-suffering glance and shook his head. "C'mon, it's just the one night. Maybe things will look better in the morning?" Nezumi made a sour face, twisting around and pulling open the small desk drawer to see what trouble he could get into. "I'll be back in a few--you'll survive without me?"

"Somehow managed to do so thus far." He waved Shion away, watching him pad off down the hallway with a frown.

He _wanted_ Karan to like him--really he did. Karan liking him meant her liking his seeing Shion, and her liking his seeing Shion meant...well, something. It obviously meant a lot to Shion himself, and that in turn made it important to Nezumi--for some reason. He didn't strike Nezumi as the type to keep things from his mama, and they obviously shared a close bond...so that the guy hadn't brought up their relationship in any manner beyond platonic...well, it was kind of worrisome. He didn't want to be this seed of mistrust coming between their perfect little mother-son relationship.

A knock on the open door jerked him from his thoughts, and he shifted around, sitting up straight. "I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything?" Karan hazarded, holding up the mugs in her hand as a peace offering. "I brought tea."

"Th...ank you," he allowed, reaching out to relieve her of one of the mugs and bringing it to his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the soothing aroma wash down his throat and into his lungs. 

"I was only teasing you earlier, you know."

He nearly sputtered into his tea, licking his lips free of droplets. "I'm sorry?"

She settled onto the bed where Shion had been sitting. "You seemed tense; I was only trying to break the ice a bit."

"Ah..." He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, not sure exactly how to respond to the confession. "I don't...really do that well when I'm put on the spot, I guess."

"Even though you're an actor?" Her smile assured him she was only teasing again. "Shion likes you."

"The feeling's mutual." He spoke before he could properly frame his thoughts, and added, "We...get along. Really well."

"That much is rather obvious." She sipped her tea primly. "I won't say I'm not curious, Nezumi-san, or that he's a big boy and I don't care who he takes up with--because I am, and I do." Her smile softened from teasing to affectionate, one he'd noticed her turn on Shion several times since they'd arrived. "But there's little more I could possibly ask for than for him to spend time with someone who cares about him as much as he does them."

The mug very nearly slipped from Nezumi's grasp, and he tightened his grip around the handle, his mouth going dry. "So you...don't hate me? Or you don't-- _not_ approve, I guess?"

She stood and strode over, resting one hand on the top of his head like a child. "Even if I didn't, would you still care for him?"

He swallowed thickly. "...It would mean a lot to him--to us--if you _did_..."

She obviously didn't need any more direct an answer, for she just nodded shortly and finished off her tea. "I like you; you're sweet."

And while Nezumi didn't quite agree with the _sweet_ affectation, he was still going to chalk this up as a win.

* * *

"I changed my mind," Nezumi announced as Shion was fluffing up the guest pillow.

"Hmm?" Shion glanced over his shoulder. "About?"

"Your mom." He settled back down onto Shion's mattress, supporting himself on his elbows as he waited for Shion to finish preparing the futon. "I think she likes me." 

"Oh...well, good then! We have that in common." With a soft _yosh_ of accomplishment, he patted the futon beneath him. "All done." Tentatively lifting back onto his knees with effort, he shuffled over to the edge of the mattress and leaned onto his crossed arms, staring up at Nezumi. "...I like this."

"Hm?"

His head lolled to the side, and Nezumi could hear the fatigue of a long day in his voice. "Dinner, with my mom. It was nice--we should do it again."

Nezumi's lips quirked up at one side, and before he could stop himself, he'd reached out and threaded his fingers through the shock of brown hair, relishing the way Shion's eyes went a little glassy with pleasure at the attention. "Yeah...maybe she can come over to our place next time."

Shion _hmm_ ed his agreement for a moment--before sitting up straight, brows furrowing in confusion. "Huh?"

Nezumi's hands dropped away, and he let himself flop back onto his back, tracing shapes in the air above him so he didn't have to look at Shion. "Just...maybe we should get a place. Together. And then invite your mother over." He shrugged, as if he were simply suggesting they try a more traditional curry recipe next week instead of the retort roux from the conbini. "We could _try_ doing it in a different order, but I don't think it would work out too well."

After a beat of silence, he let his head roll to the side to gauge Shion's reaction--finding him frozen, face still a confused mess. "You're...serious?"

Frowning to himself, he shifted and reached over, letting his fingers trail down the side of Shion's jaw, where they were quickly grasped and held steady. "...I'm serious about you. So, yeah."

He opened his mouth to list all the reasons he'd drawn up as to why this was A Good Idea and not as rash a decision as it seemed (hell, as it _was_ )--but Shion interrupted him, launching himself forward and pressing an insistent kiss to Nezumi's lips, dipping a tongue in and ratcheting up the passion with a single calculated stroke. Nezumi could feel Shion smiling against his lips, giggles bubbling up between them, but whether by design or accident, the laughter soon gave way to gasping moans, his own name falling against his skin in short breaths.

Shion drew back after a moment, slinking down the bed and brushing a hand across the thin pant material of the sleep bottoms Shion had found for him--which on Nezumi's taller frame rode up nearly to mid-calf in the leg. He blew a stream of warm air across the crotch, cocking his head and keeping his eye trained on Nezumi's--and Nezumi let himself get lost in the gesture for only a moment before he quickly drew his legs up to his chest and rocked back, away from Shion to place much-needed space between them. "Shion--no, we can't--"

The expression Shion turned on him was torn, disappointment obvious. "But--why not?! You said I've been getting better!"

Nezumi wiped a hand over his face, groaning as he let his head snap back against the wall--that would hurt in the morning. "That's-- _not_ the issue." He waved a hand around them. "I'm not _\--doing it_ with you under your mother's own roof."

Shion's frown was unmoved, and he responded matter-of-factly, "You know, many hold that given there's no genital penetration, fellatio doesn't count as sexual intercou--"

Nezumi lunged forward, slapping one hand over Shion's mouth and gripping him tight by the shoulder with the other. "Don't _say shit like that_ here!" Shion's brows furrowed deeper, and Nezumi could tell he was unconvinced. "If I let you go, do you promise not to say _fellatio_ or _intercourse_ or anything that would make your mama want to slap you?"

"My mother would never slap me," Shion reasoned when Nezumi reluctantly released him, and he brought his hands up to hold Nezumi's by the wrist, keeping them close. "You were really serious, though? Before?"

Nezumi pulled away and shifted off the bed, standing up and pulling his hair free of the tie he'd put it up in after his bath, resetting the arrangement for bed. "Have I ever lied to you before?"

"...Well, no, I suppose not."

"Then stop--" He turned on his heel and bent down, pressing a chaste, dry kiss to Shion's lips, "--asking stupid questions."

"You think _all_ my questions are stupid," Shion returned with a pout, grabbing him by the wrists again and this time holding fast.

With a sigh, Nezumi stopped pulling away, instead pressing his palms to Shion's neck, sliding up and threading in his hair to cradle his jaw and press a slower, softer kiss, their lips sliding together with less fever but as much passion. "Perhaps you should just stop talking altogether, then," he suggested breathily, smiling when Shion shuddered as Nezumi's words drifted warmly across the shell of his ear. 

And Shion, being a prudent young man, knew good advice when he heard it--and complied without further complaint.


End file.
